"Huh?" said the timid bald man number four in surprise, "But... the Minister of Magic... isn't that a bit too..."
Bald man number five, who had just woken up, fainted again.
"Shut up!" Bald man number three snapped furiously at the timid bald man number four. "Are you being cowardly? This is the Master's command!"
"The Master's robes... they smell of lavender—"
"..." Cohen kicked away bald man number two, who had grabbed the edge of his robes and was kissing them wildly.
Disgusting!
Why did the Master train these people to be like this?!
As expected, some people are born to go to Azkaban—but not yet.
They have to fulfill Cohen's demand now.
"If... if we fail..." stammered bald man number one, who was kowtowing behind bald man number two.
"You know what will happen..."
In just a second or two, Cohen turned back into his Dementor form.
His large, tattered cloak rippled gently in the air, and the temperature instantly dropped, so much so that even the cups holding the remnants of the Polyjuice Potion were covered in frost.
Cohen's faceless head under his cloak leaned close to bald man number three, the presumed leader of the five, and said softly,
"I have no need for the faith of the useless; you could serve as minor sacrifices..."
"Master, we are all willing to become the ashes after you burn dreams..." bald man number three said reverently.
To create a bit of a mysterious atmosphere, Cohen chose to become invisible on the spot and then controlled the effect his Dementor form had on the surrounding temperature.
It was clear that Cohen's sudden disappearance from the air excited these five Silver Key members immensely—being able to turn into a talking Dementor, being so cold, and demanding the current Minister of Magic as a sacrifice...
This clearly meant the Master had awakened!
The Master needed them to demonstrate their loyalty, so that after the Master destroyed the entire false world, their souls could help rebuild a new, true world with the Master.
But the only problem was...
"Boss, I really want to help the Master kill that Fudge..." said number four sadly, "But he must have a group of Aurors protecting him, we'll die, right..."
"We'll definitely die, right..." number one said just as mournfully.
"Then we'll sacrifice ourselves to the Master!" Number three glared at the two of them. "Wait—what are you doing?"
Saying this, number three looked at number two, who was still searching for Cohen's scent where he had disappeared.
"The Master's scent is fading..." number two said dejectedly.
"You motherf—" Number three kicked number two's backside, annoyed at his uselessness. "You should be excited about sacrificing yourself to the Master, not lying on the ground obsessing over the Master's scent!"
"But I really do like the lavender smell—"
"Stupefy!" Number three pulled out his wand and directly knocked out number two.
"Alright."
Seeing that number two was now kneeling face down on the ground in a strange posture, unconscious, number three said comfortably:
"Much quieter—now we need to change the previous plan... First like this... then like that... and finally..."
He then mumbled a lot of unintelligible things, and Cohen, though nearby, didn't really listen closely.
Essentially, four of them would cause a disturbance in the camp, and one would attack during the chaos.
Cohen wasn't surprised by this crude plan at all; the main purpose was to send the Silver Keys to their deaths anyway, not to actually rely on this rabble to take down Fudge.
Returning to his own tent, Dobby had already prepared the food and gone straight home—only Edward was left, tucking in heartily.
"So? Run into anything interesting?" Edward asked Cohen. "French girls? Magical creatures? Bulgarian and Irish players? I heard that Krum guy from the Bulgarian team is supposed to be pretty good..."
"Didn't see any French girls or magical creatures," Cohen took off his robes and tossed them aside, "but I did run into a pervert who kissed my robes—"
"A pervert?" Edward swallowed the food he'd just put in his mouth in one gulp, asking alertly, "What kind of pervert? Where? What else did they do to you? Man or woman? If it was a man, where is he? I'll just—"
"No need," Cohen shook his head. "It wasn't quite the extent you're imagining, the clothes just need a wash, that's all."
"Alright—I'm done eating." Edward finished his breakfast quickly. "Come on, how about we go for a walk? See how Arthur and the others are doing. Our tickets are still in the top box... Speaking of which, Arnold is quite something, those top box tickets are really hard to get."
"Shady backdoor dealings..." Cohen shook his head.
Cohen didn't like two kinds of people: those who used connections, and those who didn't let him use connections.
After Edward and Cohen went out, they happened to run into Arthur, who was pulling his large family along and discussing Quidditch match matters with Ludo Bagman.
Harry and Hermione were nearby, helping Sirius Black escape from the clutches of a middle-aged woman.
"Sirius!" The woman was shaking Sirius's hand vigorously. "I read the Daily Prophet's report on you in May, I can't believe you were framed by Peter Pettigrew for so long..."
"It's Peter, not Lupin..." Sirius said, pursing his lips, trying to pull his hand back. "Bertha, when did your memory become so..."
Harry and Hermione were also trying to help, assisting Sirius in escaping from Bertha Jorkins' persistence.
"Madam Jorkins, this is the fifth time you've asked that question—" Harry reminded her.
"Is... is it?"
Bertha blinked confusedly, then she turned and saw Sirius again, and so—
"Sirius!" Bertha grabbed Sirius's hand again and shook it vigorously. "I read the Daily Prophet's report on you in May, I can't believe you were framed by Peter Pettigrew for so long..."
"Alright, Bertha, you still need to register for the campsite water meter, off you go, off you go—" Ludo Bagman called out to Bertha. "Best to finish before dinner starts—though it's not a big deal if you don't—"
With Mr. Bagman's reminder, Bertha left, which made Sirius feel incredibly relieved—he really couldn't figure out how to shake off someone who suddenly started refreshing their memory periodically and repeating the same actions.
"Poor old Bertha... her memory is like a cauldron with a hole in the bottom," Bagman said breezily. "But don't worry about it, just let her find something to pass the time. She can fill out the whole registration form next to a tap—Edward!"
Bagman spotted Edward and immediately brightened up, opening his arms and heading over to hug him.
"Haven't seen you and Rose in over ten years—heard you adopted a dangerous—"
"Cough, cough," Edward coughed a few times, stopping Bagman from saying anything else tactless. "Been raising kids at home these past few years, it's quieter staying away from the wizarding world..."
"Oh—this must be your child, Cohen." Bagman only just noticed Cohen standing next to Edward. "Looks quite like you—I mean—"
"If you don't know what to say, maybe don't say it..." Edward said, covering his face.
"It's alright, I think we look quite alike, except for the hair color and face shape," Cohen patted Edward's back reassuringly. "I can dye my hair blonde if you want—"
"Same goes for you." Edward sharply rapped Cohen's head with his knuckles.
"How about we talk about something interesting? I was just discussing this match with Arthur and the others—want to place a bet? I've already convinced Roddy Pontner to bet with me, he says Bulgaria will score the first goal—but Ireland's number three forward is the best I've seen in years—" Bagman changed the subject. "Little Agatha Timms has bet half the stock in her eel farm, betting the match will last a week, and even Arthur just put down a Galleon!"
"And us, and us!" Fred and George squeezed over. "We're putting down thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts—betting Ireland wins, but Krum catches the Golden Snitch—oh, and yes, we're also adding a fake wand."
Saying this, Fred pulled out a lifelike black wand from his pocket.
"Don't bring your..." Percy seemed to want to stop his brothers from making such foolish gestures in front of a Ministry official.
But when Mr. Bagman took the wand from Fred's hand and saw it let out a squawk and turn into a rubber chicken, his face lit up and he burst out laughing.
"Brilliant! I'll give you five Galleons for it!" Bagman said happily.
Arthur still wanted to dissuade Fred and George from gambling, but Bagman loudly interrupted Arthur's advice.
"The boys are all grown up, they know what they want—Edward, fancy joining in? Try your luck?" Bagman turned and asked Edward.
"Cohen, who do you think will win?" Edward whispered, leaning into Cohen's ear. "Maybe ask your Horned Serpent—I mean..."
"Ireland will win, but Krum will catch the Golden Snitch," Cohen said dryly.
"But don't even think about gambling here—"
"Knowing the outcome and not betting? That'd be foolish, wouldn't it?" Edward said. "Once I've made a fortune—"
"I'll tell Mum."
Cohen used just one sentence to make Edward pull back the hand he was about to extend towards Bagman.
Bagman shook his head in disappointment.
"Oh, right Arthur, could you do me a favour? I've been looking for Barty Crouch. The Bulgarian official who's my equivalent keeps raising difficult points, and I can't understand a word he's saying," Bagman suddenly remembered. "Barty can definitely sort it out, he speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."
"Mr. Crouch?" Percy, who was standing nearby, suddenly got excited and started talking enthusiastically about Crouch's abilities, clearly admiring him greatly.
As if Old Barty had heard their discussion, a middle-aged man in an immaculately pressed suit Apparated beside them within seconds.
"Speaking of the devil! Barty!" Bagman said happily. "Fancy sitting by the bonfire? You must be worn out—"
"No need, thank you, Ludo," Old Barty said impatiently. "I've been looking all over for you. The Bulgarians are insisting we add twelve more seats to the top box."
Saying this, Barty caught sight of Edward, and Cohen beside Edward.
Cohen wasn't sure why the old man was staring at him for so long. Old Crouch's emotions were complex, tangled like a ball of yarn messed up by a cat.
"Edward, I haven't seen Rose. Shouldn't your whole family be here together?" Barty asked Edward.
"Rose is taking a break to enjoy life without us father and son causing trouble at home," Edward joked, subtly shielding Cohen behind him.
"Your last application was approved," Barty said. "Amelia vouched for you."
"That's great," Edward smiled.
After Barty left, the heavy atmosphere lightened up again. They started wandering around the campsite together, as souvenir vendors pushing carts and carrying trays kept popping up. Harry and the others' attention was completely focused on the magical souvenirs.
However, Cohen was still thinking about what Old Barty had said.
He knew the Amelia that Barty mentioned; she was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
What had Edward and Rose applied for that required the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's guarantee?
"What was Mr. Crouch talking about just now?" Cohen asked Edward, pulling him aside when there were fewer people around. "What did you apply for?"
"About getting rid of all that unnecessary surveillance and things like that..." Edward whispered. "Also, last time you said those Silver Key fugitives wanted to hurt you by targeting your mum and me—so we came up with a slightly more reliable plan."
"What plan?" Cohen asked.
"The Fidelius Charm," Edward said. "To explain it simply... it's..."
"I know about that," Cohen said. "It hides a secret inside a person's soul so it can never be found—so you won't be leaving home? I feel like you'll suffocate... But what does that have to do with the Ministry of Magic? You don't need Ministry approval to use that charm, do you?"
"It's not me and your mum who are being hidden, but our house—under normal circumstances, you really wouldn't need to go through the Ministry," Edward sighed. "But we're currently in a 'periodic reporting phase for security reasons' with the Ministry. If we hide the house, they'll assume we've absconded—"
"What kind of protection is that?" Cohen narrowed his eyes. "Getting slapped with an 'absconding' label just for not committing a crime?"
Fudge was really doing quite a bit behind the scenes. It seemed the Earl's prediction that "nothing would happen" had failed.
Because all of Fudge's meddling had indeed annoyed Cohen a bit.
"I know—I know..." Edward nodded. "So I pulled some strings and got Amelia to vouch for us—I told them that group of Silver Key fugitives was targeting our family, and the Fidelius Charm's protection would last until the Ministry caught those criminals..."
"Uh-huh," Cohen hummed, his expression unreadable.
"Wait a minute... you're not getting angry about this and planning to..." Seeing Cohen's lack of reaction, Edward quickly grabbed his shoulders and warned him, "Don't do anything foolish—"
"Relax, I'll be right under your nose, not going anywhere," Cohen reassured him. "Who are you planning to make the Secret-Keeper for that Fidelius Charm?"
"Who do you think?" Edward looked at Cohen with a subtle expression.
"Dumbledore?"
"Too old, might die easily," Edward shook his head.
"Martha?"
"Too much of a blabbermouth," Edward said, rubbing his forehead.
"It can't be the Earl, can it?" Cohen clicked his tongue.
Although the Earl is quite safe, making a bird the Secret-Keeper would be too ridiculous.
"Getting closer," Edward said.
"..." Cohen seemed to know who the Secret-Keeper would be.
"You wouldn't leak the location of the house where your mum and I live, would you?" Edward said with a grin.